The Law of Conservation of Matter by Brooke Nind (17, California)

Floating away with only papers left behind--
a blip in the universe’s pools, one last burst
of fired energy channeled by the stars upon
departure is to recreate our birth.
Each of the atoms
that form the body I’m zipped into vibrates
with the potential to create and execute
something amazing, the same potential
all atoms buzz around with,

---

shaking slightly with excitement
and the memories of particles before it,
ancestors in a speck of the world at its smallest.
Someone has lived before me with this energy
and matter and someone will live after,
and our bones will rattle the same way,
our brains thirsting for knowledge
and the next path to take in the labyrinth
we’re trapped in—for now.
I acknowledge my living, breathing body
from head to toe and all my limbs between--
as long as the lights are on and humming,
the world is whispering that I matter.
Swim in the depths of all we know and all we don’t,
drink in your consciousness before it slips out of you,
wet, cold, and silvery essence. I have been given the gift
of time and each second the world moves,
my world moves and forever turns until
one day it will come to a hard
stop. The stars connected at the perfect time
so I could see their world through these eyes
and leave my footprints and handprints all over it,
writing my name on the walls over and over again
until it is ingrained.